


Statues Beneath the Sand

by Avelera



Category: Hetalia - Axis Powers
Genre: Ancient Egypt, Ancient History, Ancient Rome, Angst, Gen, Historical, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-23 21:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avelera/pseuds/Avelera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Egypt at the death of his lover and queen, Cleopatra. Egypt/Cleopatra, also starring Rome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Statues Beneath the Sand

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Reference made to Plutarch's "Life of Antony" though the story is familiar. I had the visuals of HBO's Rome in mind. I apologize for any break with the recorded history of the event.
> 
> Summary: Egypt at the death of his lover and queen, Cleopatra.

He kisses her one last time upon the forehead and bends to close her eyes with his fingertips. As promised, the asp's poison had left no mark upon her body, and he is grateful for this. It allows him, if only for a moment, to pretend that his lover, his wife, is still alive, sleeping through the heat of the day and any moment now her dark eyes will open and she will smile up at him. He closes his eyes and sees it, Iras preparing the queen for her audience, while Charmian dandles the baby Ptolemy on her knee. Instead they too are dead upon the floor, or nearly so. There is nothing he can do for them.

He does not know how long he stands there, watching his beloved's skin whiten in death, feeling his heart dying in his chest and knowing that the last vestiges of his freedom are disappearing with it. He, who had endured the millennia, suffered and served under foreign masters but always, _always_ remained himself, could not rouse himself to fight. Not with her dead, not with Rome even now at the door.

The last of her _ka_ had vanished and there was no more doubt that she was dead. The woman he loved, though she was the grandchild of another Nation, was gone forever and it was not until he feels a rough hand upon his shoulder that he wakes from his mourning.

Stars explode across his vision and he is staring upwards into the enraged face of Rome, red eyes flashing with rage as his legionnaires crowded around Egypt's fallen queen.

"What have you done?" he shouted.

Egypt struggles to his feet. "She is beyond your reach now. Your Triumph has lost its centerpiece." For a moment Rome only stutters in rage and Egypt is reminded how truly young he is, how far he has come in so short a time. Rome is no longer used to not getting his way, not unlike his Imperator.

A swift backhand sends Egypt crashing back to the floor and his vision flashes red as a sandaled foot buried itself in his stomach. "You have made a grave error, you Gypo bastard," he snarls. "You think yourself untouchable when that is far from the case."

"My queen is dead, what more could you possibly do to me?" Egypt says.

Rome barks a laugh and bends down to meet Egypt's gaze. The ancient Nation sees blood in his eyes, "Have you forgotten your people?" he said, a smirk creeping across his face. "Have you forgotten your lands? You are my slave now, to do with as I please."

"You think you can frighten me, but you are only one of many. Hundreds have tried, and I have always endured. May the gods bear witness, I will still live when your statues are buried beneath the sand, forgotten."

"You are an old one, perhaps you are right in this matter. Perhaps after all of these years, there is truly nothing you fear," Rome said. "But even those who do not feel fear can feel pain. Have you forgotten your lands, your children," the smirk widens. " _Her_ children?"

"No! You swore…"

"That her children would be unharmed? So that Ceasarion can follow in his father's footsteps? Two Caesars are one too many."

Egypt gives no response, but quashes the angry sob welling in his throat. He should have known.

Beyond Rome he can see the legionnaires bundling up Cleopatra's body and unconsciously reaches out a hand as if he could stop them. Would they give her the proper burial? Would they wash and wrap the body, set aside the useless organs and say the proper prayers to ensure her safe passage? Or would they throw her to the dogs as if she were less than a beggar? Perhaps his heart was not yet truly dead as he feels a swell of anguish.

Rome glanced back over his shoulder, "Clean this mess up," he commanded, "And alert Caesar." The legionnaires salute and begin to remove Iras and Charmian's bodies as well, cracking ribald jokes as they work. They carry out Cleopatra right passed Egypt's face and he watches, struggling to keep his face impassive.

"Not much of a looker, was she?" says Rome, "I'll never understand what Gaius or Marcus saw in her. There are far prettier whores to be found in the City."

Egypt's vision flashed red and he bit his tongue to keep from screaming. It had not been her face that had mattered, but her presence, her easy laughter, her stern judgment, the sheer power she exuded with her every movement, tempered by grace that would make even a temple dancer seem ungainly. But what was the use? She was gone.


End file.
